Breaking the Habit
by Emmalaya
Summary: With the trio going in and out of school all the time searching for the Horcruxes, Ginny's feeling a bit left out and alone. When a freak chain of events knocks her the Forbidden Forest with Malfoy, things only get worse! G&D R&R!
1. The Weekend Blues

Breaking the Habit

Chapter I:

"Ginny. _Ginny_. Ginny, wake up!"

Ginny groaned and batted Hermione's hand away; turned over and buried her head in the blankets. From her little tent she heard Hermione snort indignantly and smiled in satisfaction. It was Saturday. There were no classes today and she would sleep as long as she wanted. Unfortunately for her, however, Hermione didn't have the same thing in mind…

Hermione grabbed her blanket again and with one sharp tug, pulled it away. Without opening her eyes, Ginny swatted out with her hands. She heard her friend whine "Gi_nny_…"

Ginny sighed heavily and sat up in bed. She brushed the hair away from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear, frowning. Rubbing her eyes, she drawled: "Fine…fine…I'm up. Why do I have to get up?"

Ginny yawned while Hermione pouted. "Because, you promised you'd help me study while Ron and Harry are in detention. We could be leaving any day and I want to get as much in as I can!"

She kicked her legs over the side of her bed and nodded drowsily. "Yeah…Yeah…I remember now," She stopped in the middle of the dormitory and raised her eyebrows. "Oi, can you leave while I get dressed, please?" Hermione stiffened, and chortled, waving her hands.

"Oh, of course, right. I'll wait for you in the Common Room." The bushy-haired girl disappeared behind the door.

Ginny sighed, and before undressing she looked about the empty room. All four beds –as of now- were empty, their crimson sheets glowing in the golden morning light. At the foot of one of the beds, a trunk lay with a curvy 'G' carved into the crown; Ginny's trunk. It was ancient, and she was sure it had belonged to an old relative with a name beginning with 'G', for it was a beautiful chest, really, and she didn't think her parents could afford something so nice just for her.

She swiped her eyes around the room a second time, finding comfort and warmth in its red-and-gold color. It held a cheery, inviting atmosphere, she had decided, and familiar. Maybe too familiar. Her whole family had red hair –she was, admittedly, a bit tired of the color- but it was comforting all the same.

Shrugging off the thought, she picked out a clean shirt and skirt and pulled them on. Instead of brushing her hair, she simply tied it back in a ponytail. She didn't bother with any make-up. Normally, she didn't bother with it much anyway. Maybe a little cover-up here and there everyone now and then, and some mascara and eyeliner for formal events and parties, but she wouldn't need any helping Hermione study.

She frowned and rolled her eyes. The 'trio' had already made plans to leave Hogwarts to find the last of the Horcruxes. They even had McGonagall's permission, which was something she thought was bullshit. If they wanted to leave, they shouldn't have even come. It's not like Ron and Harry were going to worry about classes as much as they would be anticipating the announcement of the next Horcrux.

_Harry_. The name, even in her mind, made her want to puke. _Harry_, the one who had said he loved her, only to throw her away with the excuse of 'It won't be safe'. _Harry_, the one who still insisted on taking Hermione and Ron along –but leaving her behind. They'd be in just as much danger as she would be! _Harry_, the one who she plain out refused to talk to anymore.

She was glad he was in detention. For once she was glad to have a nasty substitute for Potions. Not as nasty as Snape had been, but close enough to hate Harry.

She found Hermione and surprisingly Lavender Brown in the Common Room. Hermione was attempting to 'subtly' glare at Lavender (she wasn't sure whether or not Hermione had ever gotten over the whole 'Ron and Lavender' relationship last year but this certainly was leading her to say 'Nope!'), but she too busy chatting with Dean. She scoffed mentally. Dean was such a buffoon and Lavender couldn't be described any better than as a whore-in-training (if not a whore already). They'd make such a _lovely_ couple.

Ignoring Dean and Lavender, she bounced over to Hermione, smiled, and started to the portrait hole. "_Come on_, Hermione," she mocked, "_Hurry_."

"Oh," The brown haired with started, "you're one to talk." Ginny stuck out her tongue.

"You are so immature!"

"Well now, I'm only a sixth year, though."

"Whatever…Let's just go."

The conversation continued like that until they reached the library, where they were shushed by the librarian for their 'meaningless jabber'. Her coffee-colored eyes swooped over the library, and with a frown of disappointment, gazed at its emptiness. It was the first bloody Saturday of the school year for Merlin's sake! And it was –as a quick glimpse to a window confirmed- a beautiful day outside! If she was going to be awake, she wanted to be outside in the sunshine –not in the library quizzing Hermione.

She opened her mouth to protest, but her friend had already opened her big, smart mouth. "I thought we could work on Charms today and then Transfiguration tomorrow and Sunday-"

"You don't expect me to spend every Saturday and Sunday helping you study, do you?" She asked, a bit aggravated now. _That girl can be such a pain; I can't believe she wants me to do this all the time! I have a life too. It might not be as glamorous as hers, the whole –'defeating the Dark Lord'- but I have one! And it doesn't revolve around Hermione being the best in class!_

As the brunette sat down, she blinked. "Well, I thought that if you didn't mind…I could really use the help."

"Hermione!" She exclaimed, parking herself in a seat opposite of Hermione. "I don't want to waste all my weekends helping you study for the NEWTS you're probably never going to take! Really, Hermione, don't you think Voldemort is going to take some sort of action before the year is over? And think of the Order! They're probably on the trail of another Horcrux as we speak."

Her friend sulked, "Yes, but it can't hurt to cram, can't it? I mean, we're going to be in and out of the school the whole year and-"

"Okay, so you don't want my help with the important things, but you want me to be your study-buddy and pretend like you never even said I couldn't go? No!" She retorted bitterly, "No! I _can_ take care of myself. I can help. I mean, I _could_ help –if you three would let me! But no, you still think I'm as small and manipulative as I was five years ago!"

"We do not! Ginny, you've got it all wrong!" Hermione seemed genuinely taken aback, but Ginny didn't listen. She shook her head vigorously, her classical Weasley mane of red slashing at the air. "No, Hermione, I don't want to hear it!"

By now, she was practically screaming. The librarian stomped over and began guiding her out the door, pushing her gently and telling her to pipe down if she wanted to stay, but she was already storming out the door. "I think I will be leaving, _thank you_!"

Without another word, she stomped down the corridor, muttering several disjointed and muddled swears and distasteful curses. _How dare she? How dare she!_ They treated her like a child; like a little, wailing, crying kid. And then –**_and then_**- they expect to be her friends and joke and play around all day. Well, no thank you!

She fumed all the way down to the Great Hall, where she had from the start been subconsciously headed to. The low grumbling in her stomach didn't lighten her mood in the slightest of bits either. In fact, it worsened them. Plopping down stiffly at the Gryffindor table, she started grabbing whatever took her fancy and ate in silence. The incident with Hermione had taken up more time than she had first presumed, and because of it the Great Hall was practically empty. Perhaps that was a good thing; she was in such a sour mood at the moment she didn't want to deal with anyone.

There were a couple people still eating, or that had slept late and had just gotten up, she saw. Ernie McMillan and Neville Longbottom (whom she had sat as far away from as possible, not being in the mood to chat) were a few she recognized, as well as Draco Malfoy. _What is he doing here?_ This was the very first time she had seen him here, and she was surprised he was here at all. Many of the Slytherins had failed to turn up this year, mostly the older ones who, Ginny supposed, were aiding the Dark Lord.

_So_, Ginny pondered, _why wasn't Malfoy with them? He tried to _kill_ Dumbledore last year, why did they even allow him back in? I know _I_ wouldn't have let him. Bloody git. Bloody **ferret** git._

Malfoy especially should not have come. Did he honestly think that no one would remember what happened last year? How think can you get?

She suddenly wished she had been more attentive the past summer in reading the new issues of the _Daily Prophet_. For most of the summer she had just skimmed the articles. The stories involving battles and Voldemort schemes had quickly become monotonous and dull, and so she just skipped anything that had the title 'Death of ', 'New reports of Dark wizard activity' and the like. And her summer had been cheerier without them.

_Mmm_, she thought, finishing off her pumpkin juice and a scone, _Luna might know._

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She found Luna outside by the lake, reading the latest edition of the _Quibbler_ upside down.

"Hey, Luna." She said, taking a seat against a tree. The blonde girl looked up from her reading and smiled dreamily. "Hello Ginny, how are you?"

"Fine, thanks." She replied. Crossing her legs Indian style and leaning forward, she continued. "I have a question." Her head cocked to the side curiously, and a cascade of loose ruby locks fell aloof about her face. Though the majority of her hair was set back in a ponytail, the shorter ones that cropped her face had all fallen loose, and along with her soft brown eyes, it gave her a very innocent and carefree appearance.

"Go right ahead," The blonde nodded and shut the magazine. Since her father was the editor of a magazine, she was bound to know _something_ about Malfoy and why he was here at Hogwarts.

"I wanted to know if you knew anything about Malfoy. He attempted murder on Dumbledore last year; why did he come back here?" Okay, so she had planned for it to be subtle, but it all came out in one blunt statement.

Luna was unperturbed about the question –as she was with everything- and nodded slowly, her bangs bouncing. "Yes, Father told me that the Ministry was saying something about Lucius Malfoy disappearing over the summer and how there were accusations saying he finally just up and went to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Of course some people doubted that for various reasons, but I think it was a stray Higglyfink that mistook Mr. Malfoy as something to eat. They are notorious for that sort of thing."

Ginny's brows jumped in surprise. "Voldemort?"

Luna cringed at the name.

The blonde girl nodded slowly. "Yes, that's what the _Ministry_ says. They just don't want to admit that they can't keep the Higglyfinks under control."

"That still doesn't explain why he came back." She scowled. Luna simply shrugged and picked up the _Quibbler_ again, "Sorry, that's all I know."

Exhaling a heavy sigh, she settled down and linked her fingers behind her head. "Well, thanks Luna. Mind if I just sit here and take a nap? I need to cool down…'Mione and I had a row today."

"Oh, no, I don't mind." Luna's voice was as calm and distant as always, and for not the first time, she silently thanked God that she had the Lovegood girl as a friend. Luna combated her own fiery temper with her never-ending calm actions, which was really a good thing, because anyone else would just spark her into anger again.

As a gentle breeze played on her cheeks, her thoughts wandered. She wondered how Hermione had taken her outburst, wondered if she had told Ron and Harry yet. When they did she would most definitely get a good yell or two out at them too.

Her lips curved up in a half-smile. _Serves them all right. They should know how I feel about this. They did, after all, exclude me once again when I'm perfectly capable of helping._

She wondered –again- why Malfoy was at Hogwarts, and then –quite angrily- wondered why she should even care. She wondered how her Mum and Dad were fairing, how the twins were doing with their shop, and if Bill had decided that Fleur wasn't worth it after all yet. She wondered how close the Order of the Phoenix was to finding the next Horcrux, and if so, if Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be leaving soon. She wondered why it was always 'Harry, Ron, and Hermione' and never 'Ron, Hermione and Harry' or 'Hermione, Harry and Ron'. And lastly, she wondered what a Higglyfink really was before drifting off to sleep.

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The dungeons were dark, damp, and there was a draft –just like always. The Common Room was shrouded in shadows, as always. The furniture was green, the carpet was green, and the serpent-adorned banners were green and silver, as always. His cloak still was ornamented with the Slytherin emblem, his hair was still blonde, he could still spit out insults like a cobra spits venom –but everything was different.

The Common Room lacked the usual proud, Slytherin cheer; there were none of his classmates at all in the school. He was the only Slytherin in his year that had come back, and he had never taken the time to get to know any of the younger students. He felt like this was a shell of the life he had had two years ago –but that was before it had become real. Everything was wonderful then: the Dark Lord had begun his plot to rise again, and Saint Potter and company still bowed to his snide comments. Father talked of his own time of becoming a Death Eater and he remember how he had swelled with pride at the mere thought of it.

Then, it all came crashing down in a flurry of reality. The true horrors of Death Eaters, the pure, unbridled fear only the Dark Lord could create. Father had begun to train him. His father trained him hard and long, taught him spells he didn't even know possible -and it was torture.

But, yes, he took it, he endured it. All because he wanted to prove himself. Damnable pride and damnable greed coaxed him into it; he wanted to be the best –as always. Then he had met Him in person. He, the Dark Lord, ordered him _–him-_ to murder Professor Dumbledore to gain admission to the Death Eaters.

Bitter bile rose in throat, and he flung himself onto his bed. His bed in his room, his empty room.

He was weak. He was a coward. He was a fool.

From his dormitory he heard the sound of first years trumpeting through the Common Room, and he sighed at the sounds of their innocence.

_I'm a weakling, a coward, a **bloody** failiure…_

**x-x-x Author's Comments x-x-x**

**Well, that was the first chapter. What did you think?**

**I was thinking about putting quotes or parts from a song at the beginning of each chapter, but we'll see how that works out. I couldn't think of anything that seemed to fit for this chapter, if you can think of one I'd appreciate it if you sent me it. Thankies,**

_--Emmalaya_


	2. Curious Inspections

_**Breaking the Habit**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…But I plan on it. :-D 

–creepy music, thunder and lightning echo in background-

Chapter II:

**Curious Inspections**

"_Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas  
I need to get myself away from this place  
I said yep, what a concept, I could use a little fuel myself  
And we could all use a little change"_

-All Star

By: Smash Mouth

_Draco awoke with a start and sat up. A_ small wet spot on his pillow said he had been drooling in his sleep –a frightfully disgusting habit, but one that couldn't be helped._ How long have I been asleep? Must be evening by now… _He was still in his day clothes and cloak, so, after running a hand over his hair, he strode out into the Common Room. A few third years were huddled on a long, luxurious emerald couch chattering amongst themselves, but upon his arrival they went quiet.

By now he had become used to their unbridled stares and lack of self-consciousness as they did so. With a trademark Malfoy sneer, he marched out and through the criss-crossing corridors until he came to the Great Hall, where he stopped. Cocking up one bleach white brow, he almost chuckled –almost. It came out as more of a low, choked sigh.

The Hall was jam packed with students eating their dinners. A habit he had picked up since the beginning of the school year was to come in and eat after the rush. That way, he didn't get nearly as many odd stares or provoking remarks. It was much less stressful. It was habitual for him now to avoid crowds, or large gatherings. Most of his summer he had wasted away in his own room and it showed: his normally pallid complexion was on the verge of being described as translucent, he was a good bit skinnier, and bags often collected under his eyes. His Mother had scolded him at first. Then she had fallen ill and was whisked away to St. Mungos.

Of course, as her son, he had noticed her thinning limbs and increasing pallor over the summer before his sixth year, but then didn't realize the reason behind it and regarded it, as Father had dismissed, as her problem. Immediately after Dumbledore's death he was sent home and returned to find her even weaker then before –and his father's unexpected leave hadn't helped in the slightest. It was about mid-summer before he had finally persuaded her to speak with a doctor.

The local doctor they had spoken to sent her to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and from there on her illness got worse. The doctors never said a word about what it was that she'd come down with. By the time school had started up again much of the Malfoy fortune had been wasted away on hospital bills -some of it his _own_ inheritance money. And yet the damn doctors didn't tell him what hell was wrong with her.

He clenched and unclenched his fists from under his robe.

_No emotion…no emotion. Malfoys do not allow themselves to be swayed by emotion. I am a Malfoy. _Despite his thoughts from earlier in the dorm, he repeated the phrase over and over again in his mind. Like a blanket of security, the phrase washed over him, and with a long, heavy sigh he banished away any and all of the troublesome feelings: love, compassion, sadness, fear, and anger so that nothing remained but the terribly familiar stony nothingness.

"Oi, Ferret, mind not standing in the doorway?" A cynical voice echoed from behind. He rolled his eyes and spun around, locking gazes with Ronald _Weasel_, _Saint_ Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger the filthy Mudblood. Weasley was the one who had spoken.

His eyes narrowed. "I'll stand wherever I want, Weasel King," He sneered, giving each one a deathly glare, and stalked off to his own table. Following him, he could hear the butt of another comment, this one suspiciously sounding like Potter: "Where's your buddies, Crabbe and Goyle?" This one he ignored. _Why did I even come back here? I should have stayed at the manor, however lonely it may've been. I mean, its not like there's much worthy company here._

He ate the rest of his meal in peace. But as he stood up to leave, a paper on the edge of Slytherin table caught his eye; yesterday's issue of the_ Daily Prophet_.

The article on the front page was titled: 'DARK WIZARDS SIGHTED NEAR LONDON. YOU-KNOW-WHO SAID TO BE CLOSE BY.' His brow furrowed, and he flipped through to the page and skimmed:

'_Reports fly in about dark wizard activity in the muggle suburbs of London's outskirts…You-Know-Who expected to be in the area…Evacuations are in order…Aurors fly to the scene…'_

He scratched his head, unsure of whether or not he should be feeling happy, angry, or sad. In reality, he felt none of those emotions. He felt indifference. With a flick of his wrist the paper fell onto the floor in a cluttered heap, and he rose and exited the Great Hall. Maybe he should write to Mother…tell her he was okay –not that he would have said anything more, Malfoy's never, ever exposed weaknesses- just so she wouldn't worry.

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When Ginny and Luna came inside to eat it was almost dark. The sun was already diving into the mountains and a crisp, cool breeze nipped at her arms. With one last look at the grounds, she and her friend disappeared inside.

They parted ways in the Great Hall; Luna to the Ravenclaw table, and she to Gryffindor. But almost immediately, she wished she hadn't even come in. As her eyes swerved over the house table, they caught on three distinct heads. A bushy brown one, a red one much like her own, and a disheveled black one.

Ron spotted her and waved for her to come over. Hermione –seated one Ron's right- didn't look up at her and neither did Harry. _Typical_. Frowning, she laced her arms together and marched over, suddenly immersed once more into her former foul mood. Didn't they know by now never to anger a Weasley more than necessary? That doing so would bring unmerciful pain and suffering? That it could be suicidal! No, no, no, they just couldn't leave well enough alone. They had to push. And push, and push, and push.

And then they blamed her for losing her temper. Bah.

"Gin," He brother started slowly, "I think you misunderstand us still…and…" He trailed off.

Harry cut in. "And we want you to know we don't think you're weak or anything like that. We decided that it wasn't safe for you to be with us." She glowered at the ebony-haired boy -who visibly flinched. Her first response was to stomp, her second to claw at her hair.

"No! No!" She snarled, "You lie! I'm just as strong as any other person! You say it's dangerous, Harry, and yet you let Ron and Hermione come along! I-"

"Ginny, stop being thickheaded!--" Hermione finally spoke, lifting her gaze from her turkey. She growled. "I am not being thickheaded! You all-" Rounding back on Harry, her train of thought changed, "-I fancied myself in love with you, Harry. But now I couldn't care _less_!"

She whipped around on the balls of her feet and stamped off. She wasn't normally like this –loud, crude, and rude- but for some reason those three recently had just brought out the Weasely Woman Rage within her. She'd seen Mum explode before, and a few other aunts and grandmothers, but never thought that that temper was inside _her_.

_I hate myself when I'm angry. I wish I could just let it all go over my head and stay the quiet, calm Ginny everyone knows and loves. But I can't, and that makes me even angrier. Grrrr! I just can't win! _Thoughts swam through her mind as she thundered down the corridor and up three flights of stairs, shouted "Tomituli!" at the Fat Lady, burst into the Gryffindor Common Room, and fled back to her dormitory.

She didn't mean to be hateful to them, Hermione and Harry especially. It just came out…she couldn't stop the words from coming from her mouth when she was angry like that. And Ron, poor thing, had enough to deal with anyway. It had to be hard on him –being the best friend of The-Boy-Who-Lived and always in his shadow. She admired him for his nobility towards the situation and she knew that he had more nobility than someone _higher_ up in the social class –like _Malfoy_.

She took a running leap at her bed, pulled the curtains around her, landed face down into her pillow, and screamed into it. No one else was in the dormitory room; all her roommates were out somewhere. Pounding her fists into the mattress, she groaned furiously. Fidgeting, growling, kicking (with some difficulty), more punching, and more screaming followed until finally she was enveloped in a restless doze. In her light sleep she heard her roommates come in one by one and fall asleep. She saw the lights flicker off through her eyelids and eventually heard the even breaths of her sleeping friends.

She stayed still. In time her anger dissipated like autumn leaves in a brisk, vigorous autumn wind and she breathed easy again. But her eyes and body and mind wouldn't allocate sleep, and with a frown she regretted taking that nap outside with Luna. Rolling over in bed, she sat up and ran one of her hands through her hair. With a gentle, quiet tug the curtains adjoined to her bed were pulled away and moonlight from the window came pouring, causing her to blink ferociously.

_What time is it?_ She wondered_, It must be late, the moon's already really high._

A sudden loud, roaring growl ricocheted in the silence of the sleeping dormitory and she jumped and withheld a yelp before realizing it was her own stomach._ Eh? What? Oooooh, right. I didn't eat dinner…_

She smiled cheekily to herself, remembering her second outburst for the day. Silently, she slipped across the room in bare feet and clambered down the steps and into the Common Room. It too was empty. She took a couple hurried steps toward the portrait hole, then stopped and started pacing.

_I could go to the kitchens and nab something…But I don't want to get caught by Filch! But I'm really hungry…Oh, bother, I'm going anyway and Filch can just go burn somewhere if he finds me._

The corridors were empty, dark, and ghostly. Her feet were cold and she was too. She held her wand at arm's length, intending to hex the next thing that popped out in front of her into oblivion. Her heart thumped crazily in her throat and when she tried to swallow, she gagged.

Never before had she been out in the school after hours alone and, as Fred and George had told her, it was creepy. She knew the ghosts wouldn't harm her (Peeves, however, couldn't be trusted) and that the only thing she had to really worry about was the fear of being caught by Filch, a professor, or a Prefect.

After many long, mocking minutes ticked by she arrived at the fabled fruit picture and gave the pear a timid scratch with her finger. To her surprise, it wiggled, and the picture revealed a hidden door.

Ten minutes later she exited, giggling softly to herself while shoving the last of a pasty into her mouth. A large, big-eyed head popped out before she closed the door. "Mimmi wishes Ginny a good-night, yes!" The house-elf squeaked and then the door closed. Ginny smiled again and rubbed away the remains from her mouth. Now she knew why Harry had gone on about Dobby like he did; the little elf was about as sane as a Mad-Eye Moody after ten tequilas.

She smiled again and shook her head. This was a mistake (that and watching the floor) because no sooner than she rounded a corner she slammed against something warm and _moving_.

She yelped and sprang back.

"Dammit, Weaselette, watch where you're going." A familiar snide voice said. She jumped back, startled, and rose to meet the eyes of the insulter. Draco Malfoy. He was much taller than she remembered and had a sneer marked all over his face. Pieces of hair were falling out of the gelled mass he called hair. In his hand there was an envelope.

She jerked her chin up and glared defiantly, prepared for a verbal battle. "Maybe you should watch where _you're_ going, Ferret. Last time I checked you had eyes to see and legs to move."

"Think you're funny, do you?" He replied nastily, but before she could formulate a retort of her own he had disappeared down the hall with a swish of his cloak, leaving her standing there confused and open-mouthed.

_Did Malfoy just turn down a chance to mouth me off? Insult my family? Insult me? Something must be terribly wrong with that boy…At least it's a change for the better. I hope._

The next morning, Ginny awoke to hushed voices.

"I heard its happening today!"

"Shh…! Ginny's still asleep."

"Sorry, Jaclyn. Anyway, I heard that Harry Potter is leaving Hogwarts!"

A series of 'Blimey's and 'No way's followed. She opened her eyes slowly, and peeked through a gap in her curtains. Her roommates Anne Marcoh, Jaclyn Seriani, and Mercedes Azure were all sitting cross-legged on Jaclyn's bed –still in their nightgowns. She saw Anne lean forward. "For good?"

Jaclyn shook her head. "No, from what I overheard it's business that deals with You-Know-Who."

"Is he going alone?" Mercedes, a tan-skinned girl from Spain, asked. Jaclyn shrugged and then after a pause shook her head. "I doubt it. The Granger girl and the Weasley bloke are probably going with him."

"Don't they go everywhere with him?" Anne's voice held a tone of disdain in it.

"They do! They really do! It's like Harry Potter's twin shadows or something!"

There was a moment of silence, and just as she pushed to get up, Mercedes' voice stopped her dead in her tracks. "Jesus, that means that Harry Potter has _been_ to the Weasley home!"

"Well, of course you silly gits, now can't you take this conversation elsewhere? There are people trying to sleep in here!" Ginny said, loudly, feigning a yawn. The look on the three girls' faces was priceless. She picked up some clothes and before Jaclyn left with the rest of them, Ginny called, "Hey, Jaclyn, do you know when they're leaving?"

The black girl froze in the doorway. "They're in the Common Room now. That's why we were talking in here!" Even though she wasn't very close with any of her roommates (most of her years she had been tailing after Ron, Harry, and Hermione), she bade Jaclyn a thank you and a promise to see her later.

While changing, Ginny's mind ran over several questions and thoughts: _How long were they going to be gone? Is it safe? What will they do afterwards? Will they come back? Are they going to speak to me if she's there saying goodbye? How will Harry respond to her after that comment yesterday? Who will she talk to when they're gone? How many questions will she get while they're gone?_

The last of which had an immediate answer: A hell of a lot!

Fully dressed, she found the trio in the Common Room surrounded by a sea of Gryffindor well-wishers. All three had a sack slung over their shoulders, and Harry had his broom. It was obvious that Ron and Hermione –especially her- were planning on Apparating as far as they could. Ginny suspected Hermione had a fear of heights.

Finally, after pushing through the soup-thick crowd, Ginny arrived before (ironically) Harry. The 'Boy Wonder' flashed her a timid smile. She had expected something like that from him. "Are you really leaving today?"

Harry blanched, and she suspected it was because of her straightforwardness. But he recovered and frowned. "Yeah. We got a message last night from Lupin. They reckon they've found one of the Horcruxes."

She nodded and waved nonchalantly. "Bye then."

The next person she came to was Ron, whom she gave a quick hug. "Good luck, Ron." She said briskly, and then disappeared before he could get a second word in. Or even a first, at that matter. Hermione too, blanched, as Ginny came up to her but she smiled breathlessly and waved.

"Good morning, Ginny. I suppose you know we're…leaving today?" There was a hint of reproaching in the seventh year's voice. Ginny frowned and nodded. "I came to wish you good luck –though with you three's record I doubt you'll need it. With a ghost of a smile on her face, she darted off into the boys dormitory staircase to check and see if her brother had forgotten anything. The room was empty (Dean and Seamus she had already seen in the Common Room) and she quickly spotted Harry's suitcase lying open at the foot of his bed. There was nothing but dirty socks and underwear in it and –no, wait…parchment?

Frowning curiously, she crossed over to the trunk and picked up the paper. Her mouth dropped open in an 'o'. She knew what this was! Ron had shown her once! Slipping her wand from her robes pocket, she tapped the parchment lightly. She spoke flippantly and slowly, unsure of the outcome.

"I solemnly swear…I am…up to no…good?"

The parchment came alive.


End file.
